


Spiders, Centipedes, Moths and Bumblebees

by KitanaRiddle



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU - Kinda, Emotionally strange Jim, Grey Molly, Grey Mycroft, M/M, Molly is Jim's Sister, Molly likes bugs, No Incest, Not Series 2 Compliant, caring is not an advantage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitanaRiddle/pseuds/KitanaRiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Her cheeks turned bright pink and she stuttered, “Oh, h-h-hello.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Mrs. Hooper found her voice once more, “Molly, this is James. He’s-”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“-your brother,” Jim cut in before his mother could create one of her intricate lies.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Brother?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Half-brother really. Mummy’s letting me stay here for a few months until my birthday. She’s told me soooo much about you!” he gave his most sincere smile.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Molly seemed to buy into the smile as she returned one even sweeter, “I’ve always wanted an older brother!”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Molly and Jim are as opposite as siblings can be and only one of them ends up falling for a Holmes. Surprisingly, it's not actually Molly.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiders, Centipedes, Moths and Bumblebees

The first time Jim Moriarty watched Molly Hooper, he was seventeen years old with six murders, fifteen bank robberies and nine cases of fraud on his list of experiences. The short, mousy brown haired girl was slowly finishing a sandwich while reading a book, _Insects and Modern Medicine_. Jim was impressed that the twelve-year-old girl was reading a high school level book and he was stunned when his mother crouched beside the young girl and kissed her hairline before gathering the plate, crusts of the bread being all that was left on it. Jim’s dad was due to _pass away_ a month after Jim’s 18 th birthday and the boy was hoping his estranged mother would follow shortly after; however, the little half-sister he didn’t know he had, changed those schemes.  

Throughout the next week, Jim watched the little girl constantly have her nose buried in books. She was shy and quiet, barely speaking to any of her peers, but adored by all of her teachers. Molly seemed to live a calm and peaceful life and Jim couldn’t wait to bring chaos to her.  He had noticed that Molly’s preferred reading were books about insects and biology, which was Jim’s least favourite science. Still he spent his each night reading the same books he saw her reading. It only took two weeks for Jim to feel confident enough to put his new plan into action.

Molly had arrived at school around eight; her father had kissed her forehead as she got out of his car. Jim waited until the clock chimed 3 and he saw the little girl re-emerge from the building and start walking home. He pulled away from the curb before the girl could spot him and started to drive to her house. Mrs. Hooper, Jim and Molly’s mother, was off-work due to a sprained ankle and it took her an extra forty seconds than average to open the door when Jim knocked. He noticed the instant recognition on her face when she saw him. Jim was constantly being told he could pass as his father’s younger self.

“James,” she breathed out.

“Mother.”

Suddenly her face contorted with anger as she hissed, “What are you doing here? Where is your father?”

He pushed his way past her and sat on the couch, waiting for her to hobble after him before answering, “Father is a monster and if you don’t help me, I’m going to end up just like him.”

“I watched you take a bag of kittens and drown them in the backyard when you were four. Nothing will save you from being like that man,” his mother replied with no lack of venom in her voice, “Besides, I read about that classmate of yours and I know he wasn’t an accident.”

“ _True_ ,” Jim sang as he watched his mother lower herself into a chair beside him, “I couldn’t but notice it took you less than a year to find a new family to play normal with. Do little Molly and Mr. Hooper know what you really are?”

Her eyes widened a fraction, large enough that Jim knew he’d planted fear into her heart, “James, I’m not the bad guy here.”

“No, of course not, you’re just the woman who left her son in the hands of an abusive father and let’s not get started on how you dealt with your abusive mother...”

“How could possibly- never mind, you were stealing the kitchen knives and trying to stab me whenever you were bored! You are your father’s child through and through” she shouted, jumping to her feet before collapsing to her knees when her ankle flared in pain.

Jim raised himself up and towered over her crouched form, “No mother, I am the perfect mixture of you and father. I received the most dangerous and cunning traits of both of you, and for that I am grateful.”

Tears were gathering along the bottom lid of Mrs. Hooper’s eyes and Jim wiped them away with a flourish of his hand and a handkerchief. She remained silent, unable to deny the truth in her son’s words.  He guided her up with a gentleness she’d never seen him display as a small child, and when he finished arranging her on the couch and sat beside her, the front door clicked open.

Molly walked past the pair on the couch, she called a greeting to her mother and grabbed an apple from the kitchen. Her eyes never strayed from her latest book, _Parasites; insects, fungi and more._ Once she finished the page and went to take a bite of the shining red apple, she noticed Jim.

Her cheeks turned bright pink and she stuttered, “Oh, h-h-hello.”

Mrs. Hooper found her voice once more, “Molly, this is James. He’s-”

“-your brother,” Jim cut in before his mother could create one of her intricate lies.

“Brother?”

“Half-brother really. Mummy’s letting me stay here for a few months until my birthday. She’s told me _soooo_ much about you!” he gave his most sincere smile.

Molly seemed to buy into the smile as she returned one even sweeter, “I’ve always wanted an older brother!”

The flicker in her face gave away the reasoning. Jim could instantly tell that Molly was bullied by her older peers. His vision blurred red with rage as he remembered being ten and picked on by Carl Powers. He stopped Carl from hurting him and he’d stop anyone who tried to hurt his little sister. She belonged to him now.

Mrs. Hooper realized her only chance of keeping her daughter safe at this point was to play James’ game, “Why don’t you help James get settled in the guest room while I make dinner?”

Jim grabbed Molly’s outstretched hand and let the timid girl guide him to the room across from her own.  The last thing Mrs. Hooper heard before the door shut behind the pair was James state, “So I see you were reading a book about bugs.”

* * *

That night Molly found herself crawling into her new brother’s bed, “I’ve never heard them fight before.”

Jim wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight against his chest. Mr. Hooper and Mrs. Hooper had been fighting for the last two hours.  First they were arguing over the strange boy living in their house, then they bickered about Mrs. Hooper keeping her past a secret from Mr. Hooper, and now Mr. Hooper was angry that she left James without a mother. Throughout it all, nobody threw dishes or punches, no swears wove between their words and anytime Mrs. Hooper started to cry, her husband stopped yelling and comforted her as he tried to control his frustration. Jim had never known people could fight without underlying hatred for another.

“How come mum never told us about you?” Molly asked as the hollering below picked up volume once more.

“Mum’s a Jewel Wasp. She’s only ever laid two eggs in her life, one in a spider and one in a caterpillar.”

“ _Ampulex compressa_ only lay eggs in cockroaches,” Molly corrected.

Her brother squeezed her a little tighter, “Hush kid, I’m telling you a story. As long as I wrap the fiction in enough truth, people who don’t know better will believe it.”

Molly pondered the statement before speaking, “But I do know better.”

“Well pretend you don’t,” Jim flicked her nose gently as he continued, “When mum first stung my dad, he thought she was brilliant. She used her venom to control his mind and make him docile. It lasted long enough for her to implant a child onto him and as I grew, I became a lot like my father; however, her venom was not the correct dosage and my father regained his strength and stopped nurturing me and left me to suffer.  He was dangerous to mum, highly venomous in his own way, and she left in order to try to lay another egg properly.”

“What kind of a spider was your father?” the little girl whispered back, full of interest.

“He **is** a funnel-web spider.”

“Your daddy’s still alive?”

“Not for long,” Jim mumbled back, sleep starting to overtake him as the voices from the adult Hooper’s started to die down.

As he dozed he heard Molly begin to recite, “Funnel Web Spider, also known as _Atrax_ _robustus_ , they are glossy and dark in coloring with long spinnerets on the back. Spinnerets are used to create large, silk tunnel shaped webs in which the spider will wait for prey…”

Jim continued as she trailed off, “Highly aggressive and will maintain a tight grip on anything it’s bitten, usually biting several times.”

“Are you a wasp or a spider, Jim?”

“Both. My venom is not only highly toxic like the spider but it’s also able to manipulate other’s minds like mum’s does. I’m able to be dark and unnoticeable like the Funnel Web Spider or I can be flashy like the Jewel Wasp.”

Molly giggled, “Do you dress yourself up in shiny, metallic greens and blues just to fit your story?”

He gave his own little snicker before responding, “Oh yes, and I like to accessorize with things as vibrant red as freshly spilled blood.”

“Just like the Jewel Wasp’s legs!”

“Obviously,” he drawled.

His younger sister was silent as the pair listened to her parents walk past and retreat into their own room. Once Mr. Hooper’s snores were echoing through the hallway, Molly questioned, “And my dad was a caterpillar?”

“Yes but that is a story for another time. Go back to your own bed and let me sleep.”

Molly’s disappointment was evident as she gathered her pillow and sulked back to her bedroom. Right before she clicked the door closed, Jim heard her murmur, “Good night, big brother.”

* * *

**Eight Years Later**

Jim had moved out the Hooper home over seven years ago and he was currently living in a penthouse apartment in London, his empire almost completely built. In the six months he’d spent at his mother’s, he’d manage to not only win the heart of his younger sister, but also the confidence of her father. Mr. Hooper felt Jim was the son he’d never had and the two men had spent most of their free time fishing and canoeing together. Jim enjoyed his time with Mr. Hooper, as the older man rarely spoke which gave Jim time to plot and plan.  Both Molly and her father were disappointed to see Jim leave; however, his mother never dropped her suspicion of her eldest child. Jim wasn’t sure if he was impressed or annoyed that the woman saw through his ruse.  

When Mr. Hooper grew ill, Jim spent another two months living in the Hooper home. It was then that his mother stopped watching his every move, as she witnessed, what she thought, was her son genuinely mourn the death of Molly’s father.

Once, the night before Mr. Hooper’s funeral, Molly crawled into Jim’s bed, much like she’d done that first night, and asked, “Will you tell me about Dad being a caterpillar?”

“Not tonight, kid.”

“He looked sad, didn’t he?” she curled under her brother’s arm, trying to steal his warmth.

Jim tensed wondering how much Molly truly saw but never mentioned, “He tried to hide that from you.”

“I know,” she hadn’t cried since the day the diagnosis came through, “But I saw him once when he thought no one could see.  It must have hurt him to be so cheerful around us.”

“Not as much as it’d hurt him to have you watch him suffer.”

“Us, Jim. He loved both of us.”

It disgusted Jim that Molly was so naïve and sentimental. He had considered briefly that he may love his younger sister, but he decided it was possession he felt towards her. They were made of the same blood and she was his to better and control. Thus, Jim kept the younger girl charmed with him and Molly spent at least three weeks a year at her brother’s apartment, her fondness never wavering. Since she’d started attending medical school on early acceptance, Jim saw the girl less and less outside of their scheduled breaks.

She was to arrive in the middle of next month, which was why Jim was stunned to see her sitting on his sofa when he arrived back from his nine day trip to Dubai.

“What are you doing here?”

Her eyes were bloodshot, “Where have you been?”

“It’s none of your business. I won’t ask again, why are you here?”

“Mum’s dead.”

Jim had already known that, his informants told him two days into his trip, “But why are you at _my_ apartment?”

Molly’s eyes flashed with something Jim had never seen in them before, “Because you are my only family, you inconsiderate prick!”

He had to stop the grin from spreading across his cheeks. If Molly was at his house instead of her paternal grandparents, then Jim had succeeded in making the girl, woman now, his. The criminal threw his arms around his sister and held her close. Molly Hooper would one day be a great asset to him.

“Do you want me to tell you about the caterpillar now?” he mumbled into her hairline.

She pulled away from his hug and gave him the large, full teethed smile that she saved only for him, “Course I do.”

“Come then,” Jim encouraged her to move back to the sofa and he let her curl into his side before he began his story, “After mum left dad and I, she started to look for a target that wasn’t as dangerous. She spotted the caterpillar long before he was ever able to defend himself from her attack. Now normally when a Jewel Wasp plants an egg into a zombified target, the hatchling will devour the host from the inside out until it crawls out of the hollowed remains of the other insect. However, this hatchling was born near a large supply of aphids and rather than devouring her father, she snacked on the smaller insects until she became a caterpillar like her fath-”

“I hope you know that nobody is buying this story, no matter how many truths you try and spin beside the lies,” Molly interrupted.

Jim gave her a foul look, “If you don’t want to know about the hatchling, I’m off to have a shower.”

His sister grabbed onto his arm tightly and gave him a sheepish look, “Sorry!”

“Anyways, the hatchling became a caterpillar and her host regained his strength. As the Jewel Wasp witnessed her child grow to be the opposite of her first, she realized she’d succeeded in creating a perfect offspring-”

“Jim!” Molly looked offended, “don’t imply you’re not perfect. I’d never have achieved all that I did without your guidance. You’re amazing!”

“Hush kid, I know that. This is mum’s perspective, not my own.  Once more I’ll continue. Because the male caterpillar had been infected with the Jewel Wasp’s poison, he was no longer able to continue his life cycle and become a moth.”

“A moth!”

Jim flicked her nose, “Molly Hooper if you interrupt me again, I will go and have my shower and I will _never_ tell you which kind of moth. Do you understand?”

She flinched back at his tone, “Yes. There’s no need to use your criminal mastermind voice.”

“He was no longer able to continue his life cycle and become a moth. However, the young hatchling that had been born off him, grew a lively green before one day, after she met her highly dangerous elder brother, she turned into a hard, ruby red cocoon.”

Molly’s face lit up and she threw her head back and laughed, “ _Acherontia_ _atropos_.”

“Quite so. Generally harmless and almost plain looking, until you notice the deliciously sinister skull pattern on its thorax.   There are also superstitions that it’s unlucky or perhaps even a forewarning of bad things to come.”

“Are you saying I’m bad luck and sinister?”

“Hmmm, well your older brother is a consulting criminal and you’ve never held down a boyfriend, so I’d say yes.”

“You’re a prat,” she rolled her eyes, “But you’ve taken my mind off of things, so thank-you.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes, “Sentiment, Molly.”

She kissed his cheek as she got up anyways.

* * *

Molly Hooper had been working at Bart’s for two years when she first met Sherlock Holmes. He flew into her lab, tore it apart and made demands, before fluttering out with a bag full of left ears. If she hadn’t been so annoyed by his behaviour, she might have laughed at the absurdity of it all. When she arrived home to the house Jim had bought as a graduation present for her, she spent the next half hour drinking wine from the bottle and ranting to her older brother. Jim, who was recovering from a stab wound to his side, was slowly puttering around the kitchen as he finished making dinner.

“You _knoooow_ Molly, it’s interesting that Sherlock Holmes was in your lab today.”

“Was it?” her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You see, Sherlock Holmes has been an interest of mine for a while now. Always so eager to dance to my dance and solve the few crimes of mine that he can get his hands on,” Jim was dishing up food for her as he spoke, “He’s like an Africanised Bee; he thinks he’s special and more important than the average _Apis_ _mellifera_ but truly he’s only more easily agitated and nothing without a swarm.”

“He doesn’t have a family?”

“A brother, but two little bumblebees are nothing to fret over. Not against you and I,” Jim finished making up his own plate and took a swig of wine before passing the bottle back to Molly.

She thanked him and took a bite before continuing, “This is very good, much better than mum ever made it. Anyways, I’m assuming you think Sherlock’s presence at my lab is interesting because the Acherontia atropos is known for raiding beehives for honey.”

Her brother flashed a wicked smile her way, “Exactly. You play the timid little moth and slowly you’ll extract sweet information from the man. And should he ever prove to be a nuisance, we’ll deal with him.”

“He’s already a nuisance to me. I enjoy my work and I can’t do it with that _man_ bossing me around.”

* * *

“It’s too much of a risk!” Molly was practically shaking with anger.

“I don’t think that’s the problem, little sister. I think you’ve grown _fond_ of your little honeybee. Tell me, does he still outwit you at every turn?”

“Only as often as his elder sibling outwits you!” she felt a strong urge to push over the table beside her and watch as the dishes on it shattered. Instead she collapsed onto the sofa and glared at Jim.

“I want to meet him before he knows I’m Moriarty.”

“Why? So you can flaunt at how good your acting skills are. You’re not a spider; you’re a bloody firefly needing to flaunt your brilliance just to satisfy yourself.”

It was Jim who shoved his foot against the leg of the small side table, a large crack resonating before the surface tilted and the dishes smashed against the ground. He stormed away and Molly had hoped that was the last of their discussion. She’d seen how dangerous Sherlock truly was. Jim may think that Sherlock was nothing without a colony of other bees but he had something far more dangerous. He had Doctor John Watson. At first Jim had told Molly that John was nothing more than an ant, following orders and mindlessly droning on through life. It was Molly who realized whose gun put a bullet through the cab driver’s shoulder and that John Watson was a _Paraponer_ _clavata_. He may appear to be nothing more than a common ant, fulfilling the needs of whichever Queen he was serving; however, when he was serving Sherlock Holmes, he became one of the most painful and hard stinging ants out there.

And if John Watson wasn’t enough of a threat to Jim, Mycroft Holmes certainly was. Molly had never met the man but the few comments Sherlock had made ( _the most dangerous man you’ll ever meet_ though Molly doubted Sherlock knew who her brother was) and the stories that Jim had told her, made Molly weary.  Jim had started referring to the man as a Japanese Giant Hornet. The _Vespa_ _mandarinia_ _japonica_ was an extremely defensive wasp and though Mycroft may not have a colony, he did have the entirety of the British government at his beck and call. One sting from Mycroft would set the Secret Service after Jim.

Molly pushed all fear for her brother from her mind until the next day when he tentatively pushed open the door to her lab while Sherlock was bent over Carl Power’s runners.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t…” Jim’s character was ridiculous and Molly was caught between the urge to glare daggers into his head or to laugh at him.

“Jim! Hi!”

He turned to leave, realizing he’d angered his sister more than he expected, but she knew if he left now it’d arouse Sherlock’s attention more.

“Come in, come in.”

Sherlock glanced at Jim for the briefest moment and Molly watched as her brother’s eyes darkened in rage, “Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes.”

“Ah!”

“And, uh… sorry?” Molly did her best to keep up her scattered brained persona by forgetting John’s name.

“John Watson, hi.” John seemed more interested in his flatmate than Molly or her _boyfriend._

“Hi.” Jim devoured Sherlock with his eyes, “So you’re Sherlock Holmes. Molly’s told me all about you. You on one of your cases?”

Molly had been trying to determine how she knew Jim’s disguised character when it hit her, “Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That’s how we met, office romance.”

Jim gave her a wicked look and they giggled briefly, Molly was able to pass it off as her awkwardness but the giggles almost continued when she heard Sherlock mutter, “Gay.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Nothing. Um, hey.”

“Hi,” Jim spoke softly, his voice full of admiration. Molly would have praised him if she hadn’t been even more impressed by the way he awkwardly tipped over the metal dish.

It clanged noisily against the ground as Jim apologized and picked it up. He walked back to Molly after she watched him slip a piece of paper under it; lord knows what the paper said but Molly could only imagine.

“Well, I’d better be off. I’ll see you at the Fox, ‘bout six-ish?”

“Yeah,” Molly nodded, suddenly worried Jim would try and kiss her to prove a point to Sherlock. She wasn’t sure how she’d explain decking her new boyfriend for kissing her, but Jim seemed just as reluctant as he placed a hand on her back and said his goodbyes to the detective.

When John answered, Molly knew her brother was plotting to use the man against Sherlock. She could only hope her brother wasn’t green to how dangerous John was.

* * *

“Really? Was the underwear necessary?” Molly groaned as she flopped onto her brother's bed, “As if Sherlock doesn’t already think I’m the biggest idiot out there, I now had to defend your heterosexuality when you’re the biggest poofer I know!”

Jim, who was lying on his stomach and typing at a tablet, ruffled her hair, “You did well, kid.”

“Stop calling me that,” she mumbled as she shoved his hand off, “Sherlock's not that bad once you accept he's lacking all manners.”

He hummed, not paying attention to her. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and dosed off while he worked. When she awoke, darkness had fallen and Jim was holding his phone and writing the words “ **Well done, you. Come get me.”** She really didn’t want to know, but she figured it had to do with the woman from Cornwall that Moran and Jim had been talking about the previous week.

“I think I’m in love,” Jim told her once the text was sent.

“If it’s Sherlock I’m going to punch you. The two of you would be insufferable.”

“Of course it’s not him. He’s _ordinary._ ”

Molly felt her stomach twist, “If it’s me, I’m drawing the line at incest. Commit any crimes you’d like, but that.”

Jim flicked her nose, as he used to when they were younger, and grumbled, “You’ve got too many X chromosomes for my liking.”

“So?”

“I don’t think he’s a common drone wasp anymore, he’s too brilliant. He’s the queen of the colony.”

“No!” Molly barked with glee, “You think you’re in love with _him_. Why?”

“I’m three steps ahead of Sherlock and his brother is two steps ahead of me. The man detected my spy within five minutes because he had a slight callous left on his finger from being a sniper two months ago, and he held his teacup a certain angle. I haven’t even been able to start coming up with a plan to ruin him. Anything I come up with results in him losing the battles but somehow winning the war!” Jim was breathless and wild-eyed by the time he stop speaking.

“Then I’m going to have to tell you that blowing up his baby brother will not help you to woo him.”

“I _know_ that, Molly!” he snarled.

“I was going to help you come up with a new plan, but with that attitude, I think not.”

Jim grabbed her arm, “I won’t apologize.”

She twisted out of his grip, red smears were left in the wake of his fingers, “Of course you won’t. You know Mycroft Holmes won’t let you possess him.”

“But I _need_ to!” Molly had never seen Jim look so feral, “he has to be mine!”

It was then that Molly realized the closest thing her brother has ever felt to love was his need to own people like Molly and Mycroft.

* * *

“You all right?” Sherlock glanced at John.

When John refused to meet Sherlock’s eyes, Jim sauntered over and leaned towards the man, “You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead.”

John looked at the detective and nodded once. Sherlock responded by holding out a memory stick towards Jim, “Take it.”

“Huh? Oh, that!” Jim grabbed the stick and grinned, “The missile plans.”

Jim backed up to John’s side and spun the doctor to face him before he began to undo the vest. A red dot appeared on Sherlock’s forehead to ensure both men behaved. Once the jacket was off, he shoved the doctor towards Sherlock and spoke, “I’m letting you and your little pet walk out of here as a sort of exchange.”

“An exchange?” Sherlock narrowed his eyes, “For the plans?”

Jim made a face, as if he’d just realized he was still holding the plans, “ _Boooring!”_

He tossed them into the water and gave Sherlock his most vicious grin, “The exchange is that I give you and Johnny-boy your lives and you give Big Brother my phone number.”

“Big Brother… Mycroft? What do you want with Mycroft?” Sherlock’s grip tightened on his own gun.

“Oh Sherly, don’t be jealous! It has to do with _sex_.”

It was unclear who wore a face of deeper disgust, Sherlock or John, but before either could collect their wits, Jim was sauntering out of the pool. He snapped is fingers as he opened the door and the sniper dots vanished from the flatmates’ skin.

Before the door could slam behind him, Jim called out, “Don’t forget our little deal, Sherlock.”

* * *

And that was how Mycroft Holmes found himself at the entrance of the spider’s nest. He was not brave like Sherlock; he was honest when he told John that bravery was stupidity. But Mycroft was dangerous and confident in his abilities to subdue Moriarty. As well, if a date with Jim had a chance of keeping Sherlock safe, then it was worth it. He knew he was ahead of Moriarty, that he could stop the man from ruining any major government plans, but he also knew the Moriarty was ahead of Sherlock and could have ended his life that night at the pool.

At exactly seven, Mycroft raised his hand and knocked on the door. It flew open almost immediately to reveal Jim, who was wearing a deep green suit, almost black, with a blood red tie.

“Mycroft,” Jim breathed with excitement, “Come in.”

The government official couldn’t deny the succulent smell coming from the kitchen of the house. The décor around him was high class, and he chose to ignore that some of the paintings on the walls were authentic and stolen pieces. There was a slight feminine touch to the house, perhaps Jim had been with a woman previously, but Mycroft couldn’t imagine Jim was the type to let someone leave him alive.

“Would you like wine?”

“That’d be lovely, thank-you,” Mycroft had promised himself he’d be cordial and but Jim’s manners made it an effortless promise to uphold.

Jim passed him a glass while wearing an expression that could be described as a mixture of love struck and controlling, “I’m baking salmon and asparagus.”

“I wasn’t aware you were gifted in the kitchen.”

“Mmmm, there are other areas I’m even better at,” the hunger in Jim’s eyes was evident.

“I am aware. I’ve noticed you’re quite skilled at coups and anarchy.”

Mycroft was thankful when Jim gave a sharp laugh, “Yes I suppose I am talented at those. So tell me, Mycroft, what is it that you enjoy doing when you’re not saving the world from my clutches?”

 He had intended for his reply about his interest in entomology to be short and simple, but Jim’s eyes lit up as Mycroft described his large collection to him, “It’s practical because the exoskeleton retains the insect’s shape after it’s died.”

“But _why_ do you find them fascinating?” Jim pressed.

“It’s the way that people fear them. Creatures that are natural and abundant are often the weakness of many great people. They are powerful.”

The conversation was cut short as the timer for the oven went off. Jim busied himself preparing their plates and soon the two men were chatting easily about music, poetry and science. Eventually the bottle of wine was empty and it was well past midnight.  Mycroft was starting to feel an overwhelming urge to have power over the shorter man.

“Jim,” Mycroft was standing at the door, “you are most enjoyable company.”

The criminal grabbed for Mycroft’s outstretched hand and rather than shake it, he pulled it to his lips, “Likewise.”

“What do you want to happen from this point?” Mycroft couldn’t help but query, hoping their notions overlapped.

“I want you to come back for dinner, as often as possible. And then one night I want to bring you to my bed rather than let you walk out the door.  I want to see you spread out across my mattress as I leave bite marks across your freckled skin. I want to hear you gasp my name and moan as you come while buried deep inside me. I want you to wake up knowing that when you open your eyes, I will be beside you. I want to make you breakfast and kiss you as you leave for work, preferably making you late as I rut against you by this very door. I want you to be mine.”

Mycroft’s eyes were dilated and he let out a shuddered exhale before he answered, “And if I want you to be mine, as well?”

“Oh Mycroft,” Jim breathed as he leaned up to let his hot breath flutter across the politician’s neck, “I already am yours.”

The taller man gave a nod and stepped back, “Then I agree to those terms. I will return tomorrow night for dinner if my schedule allows it.”

Just as Jim was about to shut the door behind his date, he called out, “Which insect do you think you are?”

Mycroft never answered but the next morning Molly opened the door to find a bouquet of flowers sitting in front of it.

On the note attached it said:

**Jim:**

**Since spiders are related to insects only by phylum, I would say the arthropod I relate to most is the** **_Scolopendra gigantea._** **Although I am not nervous and jumpy, I do find myself to be aggressive in the right circumstances and quite capable of overpowering other, dangerous creatures. Do not forget, you are as much mine as I am yours and I do not share.**

**I look forward to tonight.**

**-MH**

**  
**Molly realized that Jim's need to possess people may be the closest he could feel to love, but it appeared that Mycroft was capable of the same warped emotions.


End file.
